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| Marieke Lucas Rijneveld |
SCARED HARES WEIGH THE MOST
By Marieke Lucas Rijneveld
And how that water came that night, we sat freshly washed beside the radio in
the back room, the house suddenly appeared made of cardboard, as though
we had hidden ourselves inside the weekly box of bananas, the roof
tiles chattered. They said: storm moving in from the north. That evening, Grandpa
had driven the cows up onto the dike, not knowing we would later
find them floating like swollen balloons in the water, how we
watched from the stairwell as the carpet rose faster and faster,
everything of value held over our heads: a child, a packet
of Blue Band butter, some jewels. Prayers were heard within houses; fish
made air bubbles under water – whatever happened, God was given
a life jacket in our thoughts. And mud, everywhere mud. The peanuts
we’d eaten beside the radio were now like some of the villagers,
sunk to the bottom; the water was salty and ice-cold, the foam came up
to our navels. Later, when the helicopters shaved low over attics and heads
it became sink or swim, but each time only a few were allowed to be saved,
because, as the soldiers called out: scared hares weigh the most.
the back room, the house suddenly appeared made of cardboard, as though
we had hidden ourselves inside the weekly box of bananas, the roof
tiles chattered. They said: storm moving in from the north. That evening, Grandpa
had driven the cows up onto the dike, not knowing we would later
find them floating like swollen balloons in the water, how we
watched from the stairwell as the carpet rose faster and faster,
everything of value held over our heads: a child, a packet
of Blue Band butter, some jewels. Prayers were heard within houses; fish
made air bubbles under water – whatever happened, God was given
a life jacket in our thoughts. And mud, everywhere mud. The peanuts
we’d eaten beside the radio were now like some of the villagers,
sunk to the bottom; the water was salty and ice-cold, the foam came up
to our navels. Later, when the helicopters shaved low over attics and heads
it became sink or swim, but each time only a few were allowed to be saved,
because, as the soldiers called out: scared hares weigh the most.
FICCIONES
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DRAGON
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The Discomfort of Evening by Marieke Lucas Rijneveld review / A family’s grief
KISS
Marieke Lucas Rijneveld / Scared Hares Weigh the Most
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